


Hold onto me, breathe, breathe, you can breathe, you’re not drowning

by 60r3d0m



Series: Season 14 Coda Collection [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bad Jokes, Castiel in the Bunker, Cheesy, Dean and Castiel Get Stuck In A Closet, Episode: s14e03 The Scar, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, Jack is still learning how to distinguish different types of candy, Love Confessions, Love Potion/Spell, M/M, Melodrama, Season/Series 14, Sharing a Bed, because that's Dean's natural habitat maybe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-09 08:49:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16446653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/60r3d0m/pseuds/60r3d0m
Summary: Dean grins. “You don’t wanna try it?”Cas rolls his eyes.“These usually work on first sight, Dean, so unless you want me to fall in love with you, I suggest you put it away.”Dean licks his lips.He watches Cas’ mouth.Then he tucks the love potion into the Gross Stuff drawer and turns away.Coda to 14.03





	Hold onto me, breathe, breathe, you can breathe, you’re not drowning

**Author's Note:**

> I had an extraordinary amount of delight in writing this. God, I've missed these two so much and I very much wanted them to hug last ep, so here's another coda!
> 
> As for warnings, like the episode, there are references to drowning in this. Not super explicit description-wise, but the word appears fairly often in Dean's dialogue and Dean experiences anxiety/panic at one point. This story's angsty at the beginning and then towards the end, becomes veryyy cheesy and possiblyy Jack is a bit Too Naive, but I had fun. I had so much fun :D 
> 
> Anyway, happy reading! <3

He doesn’t know how he holds himself together. As soon as Dean comes back—and it’s really _him_ , Cas thinks, and maybe he—maybe he doesn’t quite believe that—but as soon as Dean wanders into the bunker, all Cas can do is stare at him, take him in and make sure that he’s _alright_ , and there are no words spoken between them—Cas doesn’t remember how to speak.

Dean smiles at him, softly, watches him even as Jack hugs him, and Cas should go to him—Cas should wrap his arms around Dean, too, and pull him in tight, until Dean squirms and laughs and says, “Hey, okay, alright,” like he’d said the last time when they had done this, when Cas had been unable to let him go.

But they don’t.

They just keeping _looking_ at each other, and Cas’ chest just keeps getting heavier, and then Dean heads off to shower.

But before he disappears again, he throws Cas another burning look.

 _Wait,_ it says, so Cas does.

 

 

 

 

Cas thinks that that he’s going to embarrass the both of them, because when he sees Dean again, everybody else is there, too, and all he has is the urge to bowl him over and throw his arms around him (Cas has learnt long ago that displays of public affection are awkward for Dean).

But this time, Dean shifts his weight, looks anywhere but at him, and Cas wonders what’s wrong, if maybe he’s done something that’s upset him even though it’s only been an hour since he got here, but then Dean swallows, flicks his eyes up to Cas’ and there it is again:

 _Wait_.

Cas tilts his head.

Dean looks away.

And then Dean disappears, already on a hunt with Jody.

 

 

 

 

Cas can be patient. Cas has spent millennia already, watching the world turn while waiting for God to appear, so a few more hours should be nothing.

But he’s wrong. He paces the bunker, flitting place to place, doing what Dean wants him to do but doing it unhappily. Performing the spell occupies him, and then Jack’s turbulent mood is cause for concern (it’s not easy losing your grace—Cas knows that) so Cas talks with him, tells him that he’s proud.

But when everything is settled again and night falls, the minutes only drag on.

Cas goes to the kitchen and makes a pot of coffee.

Sam calls to say that the brothers will be back in ten.

 

 

 

 

I missed you, Cas wants to say. These weeks have been lonely without you. I wish that I could’ve saved you.

Cas wants to say these things and many other things that border on “PDA” and he wants Dean in his arms, wants to feel something _tangible_ that will break the long nightmare that has been his life since Michael came here, but Dean moves around him as if on tiptoes.

“Thanks,” he says, when Cas hands him his coffee, and Dean’s careful not to let their fingers brush. They sit down at the kitchen table, except it’s not the one that’s familiar to Dean. It’s a new table, bigger and bulkier, that Mary had decided that they needed if they were going to house so many new hunters in their home (Cas is learning to accept that this is home for him, too).

Sam squeezes in beside Cas, and everything’s going good, but then Bernard comes by, someone who Dean doesn’t know, and Bernard plops down beside Dean.

Dean tenses.

Cas searches Dean’s eyes.

Dean looks back, maybe a little too long for a glance, but not long enough to call it eye contact, and _Wait,_ Dean’s eyes say.

So maybe that’s why he disappears again.

 

 

 

 

Cas knows that it’s not appropriate to leave in the middle of a conversation. He knows that because every time he does it with Dean, Dean usually gets annoyed, follows Cas and yanks him back by the shoulder to demand what’s up (a lot of times, Dean is right, and something is usually “up” with Cas, and Cas ends up rambling and Dean’ll sigh and, _Dumbass,_ he’ll mumble, and then he’ll look at Cas as if he wants to kiss him (or maybe Cas only thinks that because Cas has watched one too many episodes of _Dr_. _Sexy_ at Dean’s request)).

But listening to Bernard talk is excruciating.

Cas fidgets in his seat, tries to be as good as Sam is, who listens and nods along with a polite smile even if he’s not taking anything in.

“Best way to kill an angel ain’t bullets, you see,” Bernard says and he grins, continues polishing his knife. For his own safety, Cas has been pretending to be a witch since the rift spat out so many bloodthirsty, broken people. “See, the secret’s the wings. Pin an angel by the wings, and that sucker—”

Cas rushes out of the kitchen.

“Squeamish?” Cas hears Bernard say to Sam but Cas has no time to go back in to correct him.

He _needs_ to find Dean. 

 

 

 

 

Cas can’t find him. Cas goes to Dean’s bedroom and knocks, waits for Dean to tell him off in that panicked voice of his if it’s a case of “me time,” but Dean doesn’t answer.

A twist of the knob reveals that the room is empty.

Dean must’ve been here at some point today, because the clothes that Michael had him wear are on the floor and his duffel bag from the hunt is on the table. It’s open, so Cas rifles through it, and maybe he is afraid that he’ll find something, something that’ll worry him, but everything is in order save for the toothbrush.

Cas’ shoulders sag with relief.

Dean must be in the bathroom.

So Cas lingers.

 

 

 

 

Out of habit, he starts unpacking. There are clothes in the duffel, in case a hunt takes them longer than anticipated. Cas pulls the ruffled sleep shorts out, folds the clean socks and underwear and tucks them all back into their drawers. There’s a chocolate bar that Cas stashes into his pocket—Dean will forget to eat it if he leaves it in the bag. When his hand brushes over Dean’s stash of condoms, he dutifully moves on because _“Never unpack those, Cas! Guy’s always gotta have protection!”._ This was what Dean had told him right before pushing a packet into Cas’ trench coat pocket, as if he expected Cas to have spontaneous intercourse all the time. Now whenever Cas reaches in for his phone, he inevitably brushes the foil wrapper, the memory of Dean wiggling his eyebrows rushing unbidden to the forefront of his mind.

Cas is pretty sure that Dean would be embarrassed if he knew that.

After everything else in its proper place, he at last pulls out Dean’s journal, flips to the latest entry, but Dean hasn’t written anything new. It’s still dated to the week before they’d gone through the rift, Dean ranting about the latest _Dr_. _Sexy_ cliff hanger with a note to Cas begging him to catch up (he’d wanted to watch the finale together).

Cas hadn’t.

But now he wants nothing more.

And then, after another thirty minutes of squinting at Dean’s fidget dice and pressing aimless buttons, Cas realizes that Dean’s not coming.

Dean’s disappeared again.

 

 

 

 

He knows that it can’t be Michael. The bunker is warded too heavily, and Dean would not be so foolish as to go after him.

But _still_ , Cas’ heart is pounding in his ears. Still, he frantically makes his way down to the garage, worried, half-running, his only thought of making sure Dean is alright. Sam calls to him, follows him when he sees Cas’ fear, but in the garage, the Impala’s there, gleaming, perfect as ever.

“Hey,” Sam says and he presses a hand to Cas’ shoulder. He’s shaved now. “You okay, man?”

Dean, Cas says. Where is Dean?

“He went to clean up. The spell that you guys did. He saw the vial that you left behind. He said he’d put it back in the Gross Stuff drawer for you.”

But that was an hour ago.

 

 

 

 

Cas feels like he can breathe again.

When he opens the door to the little supply closet, Dean’s there, all the contents of the Gross Stuff drawer out on a shelf. He’s relabelling. He’s giving the vials proper names.

Dean doesn’t say anything when he sees Cas—at least, not right away. It’s tight in here, only a couple of feet between Dean’s chest and the door so Cas keeps it open, stays just outside the threshold. But when Bernard passes through the hallway, Dean tenses and says, “C’mere,” and pulls the door shut behind them.

Cas’ chest tightens.

Dean’s so close that he could count every freckle.

He tries not to think about what people who hide in closets in _Dr. Sexy_ do together.

It’s not the first time that they’ve been here, but it’s the first time that the door’s not open. They’d spent five days last August, in the heat of high summer, navigating around each other’s bodies as they worked to reorganize the bunker’s inventory. Dean had smiled a lot, maybe more than Cas was used to, and they’d bickered and laughed and Dean had teased him, nudged him with his hip when he’d found a love potion and asked, _Do you think it works_?

“I was looking for you,” Cas says then and Dean clenches his jaw. “I couldn’t find you in your room. I unpacked your things.”

Dean nods. His eyes meet Cas’ eyes, briefly, before dropping to the vial in his hand. Cas watches him, feels that urge to go to him again, but now that he’s here, he doesn’t know what to do. They’ve already reunited. Cas can’t touch him now. They only do that when they’re running out the clock.

For a moment, Cas hovers, seconds that stretch into an eternity.

Cas puts his hand on the knob again.

 “I, uh, came here, because…” Dean fidgets with the vial, waves a hand. “Just needed a break from all those people.”

Cas nods. Breathes. Shifts on his feet. “Yes. I do that, too. It’s hard pretending to be someone that you’re not.”

At that, Dean breaks into a smile, for the first time since the hunt (what happened there today?), and Cas feels the tension leave his shoulders (he lets go of the knob). Maybe something leaves Dean, too, because he lets out a shaky breath and Cas suddenly has the desire to recount everything that he’s seen happen in the last couple of weeks.

“You always get me, Ca—”

“They think I’m a witch!” Cas blurts. 

Dean blinks.

“What?”

Cas confesses then, about how tired he is of acting. Cas rambles over the course of a good ten minutes, and maybe this is something that he has wanted to express his dissatisfaction about for a long time because it all bubbles out. He could’ve gone to Sam—should’ve—but telling Dean feels _right_. He tells Dean everything.

Dean nods along, and he’s still smiling, even if it’s only softly, and his eyes are fond like August summer and he says, “I missed this.”

Cas nods, too, and they look at each other, breathe in that small space and the inches between them dig into Cas’ heart like needles.

“Are you okay, Dean?” Cas asks and Dean’s smile drops.

For another eternity, Dean averts his gaze to the vial in his hand, and then he shakes his head. It’s as if something’s ruptured inside him, a well of emotions wading off his body that make Cas dizzy. Dean presses a trembling hand to the edge of a shelf, clutches on as if it’s the only thing that’s keeping him afloat, and then the words come spilling out of his mouth.

“It’s too crowded out there,” he says. “Too many people pushing and shoving. Michael shoved and I—”

His voice cracks.

“It’s not _home_ , Cas—and I _wanted_ to come home.”

And Cas expects Dean to go on. Cas wants Dean to ramble, like he just did himself, but Dean doesn’t. Dean holds it in, and Cas grits his teeth, feels a weight settle back onto his shoulders and air that won’t leave his lungs and, “Stop it,” Cas says. “Stop doing that, Dean.”

Dean doesn’t ask what Cas means. Dean just _knows_. Dean says, “I feel like I’m drowning.” Dean says, “I’m sorry I said yes.” Dean says, “I know I disappointed you,” and he backs up against the shelves, presses into them and enlarges the space between them as if he’s afraid that Cas will say yes to all of it.

Maybe that’s why they didn’t embrace this morning.

So, “I’m not disappointed,” Cas says. So, “You _saved_ people,” Cas says. “You saved your _family_ and I’m not sorry you said yes and I’m happy to have you back.”

And then, because Dean looks like he’s still drowning, Cas rolls his hands into fists and shuts his eyes.

How can I help you? How can I help you?

 

 

 

 

There are too many moments between them, Cas thinks.

There are too many drawn out silences because they’re unable to speak.

Cas wants them gone.

Cas wants silences between them because they are happy. Cas wants silences that are comfortable and that fit into their lives like puzzle pieces because they’re supposed to be there.

This is not that.

 

 

 

 

“Get rid of this thing.” Dean says, and finally lets himself be angry. He pulls off his plaid shirt and grabs Cas’ hand, presses it to the mark that Michael left and Cas feels every bit of Dean’s emotions swarm inside his mind. “If you wanna help, take this thing off of me.”

Cas grips him tight. 

Dean says, Please.

 

 

 

 

Cas saw everything. He didn’t want to see.

When he delved into Dean’s mind, Dean gave him everything except his own guilt.

Maybe Cas has been avoiding Dean, too.

Maybe that’s why Cas couldn’t pull Dean into his arms this morning.

 

 

 

 

“I can’t take it away,” Cas says and Dean squeezes his eyes shut as if he’s just seen a reaper. “But I wish I could.”

I didn’t want to see those things.

Your mind, it broke my heart.

That was why I was afraid.

 

 

 

 

 _He_ loves _you. You think that it is one-sided, Dean? All of heaven knows how Castiel broadcasts his heart for all the angels to hear._

_But now that you’ve given yourself up to me, he wouldn’t take you back even if you begged. He was so disappointed. He left the room because he couldn’t bear to hear you say yes._

_So stay here. Stop fighting. I am too powerful, but you can still reap satisfaction from the knowledge that only you are my true vessel._

 

 

 

“I can’t breathe,” Dean says and he gasps for air. Cas, I can’t breathe!

Dean pushes Cas’ hand away from his arm.

Cas stands there feeling helpless.

 

 

 

 

_You dream of waking up in the same bed with him. I know this. You lie at night on one side of the mattress, pretending that he’s there when you know that you could never scrounge up the courage to ask him to stay._

_You have been wasting your years, Dean._

_You are too weak so you have nothing but me._

 

 

 

Cas pushes the door open.

“ _Dean_ ,” he says even as Dean crumbles to the floor. The vial that he’s been holding shatters. “This closet’s making you claustrophobic, Dean. You can breathe. I _promise_.”

Dean shakes his head. Even as the pink fumes of the love potion rise up in the air, Dean begs him to shut the door, so for him, Cas does.

And then, in the pink fog swirling around them, some semblance of control comes back to Dean.

“The potion,” Dean says, just as the smoke fills Cas’ nostrils.

 

 

 

 

_“Do you think it works?”_

_Cas glares at Dean._

_“Yes,” he emphasizes, because Dean’s already trying to pop the cork off the vial, “and I can sense that it’s very potent.”_

_Dean grins. “You don’t wanna try it?”_

_Cas rolls his eyes._

_“These usually work on first sight, Dean, so unless you want me to fall in love with you, I suggest you put it away.”_

_Dean licks his lips._

_He watches Cas’ mouth._

_Then he tucks the love potion into the Gross Stuff drawer and turns away._

 

 

 

 

The potion calms Dean. Love leaves people hysterical and somewhat murderous, so Cas is not sure if this is a good thing.

“What if it drifts into the bunker?” Dean says and Cas shakes his head.

“It would have dispersed. Too weak to affect them.”

Cas settles down onto the floor opposite him, leans back as far as the door will allow and Dean takes big gulping breaths.

“We can’t go out there,” Dean says. “Not until”—he motions with a thumb between them—“this thing with us is done.” 

Cas nods, picks up the vial stopper and sniffs.

“It wasn’t as potent as I thought,” he tells Dean and Dean looks relieved. “It should wear off in a mere fifty-nine hours.”

At that, Dean covers his face with his hands and groans.

 

 

 

 

Cas isn’t sure how the potion will affect him. He is an angel, but a weak one at that. They sit there for thirty minutes, not talking, waiting to be overcome with the desire to kiss or touch or declare dramatic vows of fidelity to one another, but none of that happens.

Instead, Dean buries his head into his hands and dejectedly, “I’m hungry,” he says.

 

 

 

 

Five minutes later, Cas remembers the chocolate bar from Dean’s duffel bag in his pocket.

He pulls it out and offers it to Dean.

But the condom that Dean had put so long ago in his pocket tumbles out, too.

Dean swallows.

“Come prepared, huh?”

Cas feels a sudden heat flush up his neck.

Cas stammers nonsense.

 

 

 

 

“I want to hug you,” Cas says after another eternity. “I want to wrap you in my arms and listen to your heartbeat and just hold you for a moment in agreeable silence.”

Dean snorts.

“Love spell’s making you sappy, pal.”

And then, looking at Cas’ condom on the floor between them, “And you’re fucking terrible at foreplay.”

 

 

 

 

“It’s not the spell,” Cas says when Dean finally meets his eyes again. “As soon as I saw you this morning, I wanted to run to you.”

Dean takes an unsteady breath and swallows.

He looks away again.

But, “I know,” he says.

 

 

 

 

The light bulb above their heads keeps flickering.

Dean looks worriedly at it as if afraid it might go out.

 

 

 

 

“I wasn’t avoiding you,” Dean says. “Jack’s hug was…a surprise, y’know? But I wasn’t ready for—I can’t have arms around me right now. I can’t—I can’t breathe easy.”

“Oh,” Cas says.

And suddenly, he understands.

“I need you to wait for me,” Dean says. “I need you to wait.”

 

 

 

 

The light bulb does go out.

It flickers and flickers and then the hum of electricity zaps to a shut.

Dean takes quick, heaving breaths. Dean panics in the darkness and, I’m drowning, he says. I’m drowning.

“You’re not drowning,” Cas says. “Dean—Dean, please.”

And Cas wants to reach out to him. Cas wants to put a hand on his back, rub up and down and soothe the fear away, but now he knows that he can’t do that.

So, “Hold onto me,” he says. “Breathe, breathe, you can breathe, you’re not drowning.”

Dean fumbles for him in the dark, grabs onto him and hangs on for dear life. Cas keeps his arms at his sides, resists every instinct to take a hold of him. Dean buries his face into the crook of his neck and gasps. Dean clutches the lapels of Cas’ coat in his fingers and mumbles about Michael, how he’s still here, how he’s still dragging Dean down.

But, He’s not here, Cas says.

I’m here.

And you’re holding on.

 

 

 

 

“I missed it,” Dean says. “The finale. _Dr_. _Sexy_. Because of…him.”

“It’s okay,” Cas says. “We can watch it together.”

 

 

 

 

Cas thinks that maybe together, the darkness isn’t so scary.

Maybe Dean thinks that, too, because, “You can hold me,” he says.

Cas wraps his arms around his back and they breathe together.

 

 

 

 

“It’s because we’re already in love, right?” Dean says. “That’s why the potion’s not doing anything.”

And Cas wants to say something but hearing Dean’s complicated love confession makes Cas’ heart stop.

“God,” Dean groans. “I’m becoming a sap.”

 

 

 

 

They come out of the closet. Slowly. Carefully. Not quite ready to have eyes on them.

The bunker’s quiet now, most of its occupants fast asleep. They creep down the hall past Jack’s room (Cas peers in, checks to see if he ate all of his soup), and then, with gentle feet, they pad past the threshold of Dean’s bedroom.

It’s awkward.

It feels as if something’s changed and Cas doesn’t know how to navigate this new space. He means to leave after Dean settles under the sheets, but Dean pulls him by the wrist and asks him to stay.

“Should’ve done this a long time ago,” Dean mumbles.   

So Cas nods, smiles and settles into the chair by Dean’s table, prepares to spend the night keeping watch. He pulls Dean’s laptop towards him (maybe he can catch up on _Dr. Sexy_ ), but Dean gives an exasperated sigh and glares at him.

“No, dumbass,” he says. “Change into some pajamas and get into _bed_.”

Oh, Cas says, and his heart beats wildly in his chest and every move that he makes after that is slow and tentative. But maybe it’s not just Cas who’s unsure of everything right now because when Cas pulls off his clothes and starts to change, Dean’s eyes flick back and forth to him as if he doesn’t know if he ought to watch.

And then they’re both in bed, and Cas lets out a small sigh of surprise when Dean wraps his arms around his waist and presses his nose to the back of Cas’ neck.

Dean breathes, shallow and shaky.

You’re not drowning, Cas reminds him.

 

 

 

 

Cas would think that waking up would be awkward, too, but it isn’t. Dean mumbles a _Morning_ and prods and pokes the both of them to the bathroom to brush their teeth. It feels easy and Cas wonders why they didn’t do this before, and Dean keeps smiling at him with a little bit of confusion as if he’s thinking it, too.

After that, they don’t see each other much. Sam grabs them at breakfast and sends Cas off to help with another witchy spell, tells Dean to get to know everybody because he’s scaring them.

“They think you might still be Michael, okay?” Sam says and he runs stressed fingers through his hair and then disappears to do a hundred more tasks.

At lunch, Dean and he sneak off to the Man Cave and watch _Dr_. _Sexy_ ’s first ever gay doctor enter the season with a diagnosis of a “subungual hematoma requiring immediate coronary bypass surgery and hernioplasty to control an intracerebral hemorrhage.” Cas frowns but Dean seems captivated so he doesn’t say anything. Later, when the doctor talks about his dating life, a nurse demands, _Isn’t that wrong, doctor?_ and Dr. Gai responds with a dramatic speech about how long it took him to accept his sexual orientation. The nurse looks aghast at him and shakes her head and says, _I mean, it’s wrong that you’re flirting with your patient, doctor!_ and the episode ends with a heart wrenching break-up where Dr. Gai tells Jaime Leshommes, the one with the brain transplant, how they can’t see each other anymore.

Dean sniffles and Cas pats his back, unaffected.

The rest of the day passes in monotony. On his way to pick up pizza for the hunters, Dean surprises Cas with a hug from behind and whispers, “I’m drowning,” and Cas grumbles and, “How are you joking about your trauma already?” he says. Then Jack’s voice brightly announces, “Hello!” and they both jump in fright to find Jack grinning at them with the chocolate wrapper that Dean had left discarded in the closet last night.

“Someone was eating candy there,” Jack tells them in a conspiratorial tone and then he pulls out Cas’ unopened condom from his pocket and smiles. “But I found a mint!”

“That’s not a mint, you idiot!” Dean hisses, snatching the condom, and disappointed, Jack says, “Then what is it?”

Dean flushes and leaves, tells Cas to give “[his] son the birds and the bees talk.” Puzzled, Cas tells Jack how honey is made and both of them have an agreeable follow-up conversation where Cas promises to take Jack bird-watching.   

 

 

 

 

Somewhere before dinner, they find time for themselves. Dean looks tired from all the social interaction, but he promises that he can breathe. Cas smiles and wants to find out what it would be like to kiss him, and when Dean pins him up against a wall, Cas thinks that maybe he’ll get his wish.

But Dean just buries himself against his chest, and after a while, he tells Cas that he can put his arms around him, too.

 _I’m not one for speeches_ , Dean says, when everybody’s settled in for dinner and all of the survivors from the Other World are watching him. “But Sam tells me that we’re working together here…”

And Dean tells him that he looks forward to it. That it’s not the way that things have been done, but maybe they should be, and he reassures them that Michael’s not in his body anymore, but that they’re going to get him. The hunters clap at each pause, and Dean looks uncomfortable and scratches at his arm when they do it, but he pulls through with a hand on Cas’ shoulder.

And then when Dean’s done talking about Sam, about what a smart and good leader he is, he turns to Cas and Cas doesn’t know what he’s going to say—only that it has something to do with them.

 _Not all monsters are bad_ , Dean mumbles and Cas looks down, knows then, and maybe most of them knew it already. They aren’t surprised when Dean tells them that Cas is an angel, except for Bernard who looks scandalized, and relief rushes through Cas at the knowledge that he can be himself again.

Dean pulls him up to his feet, slaps him on the back in a move that seems far too behind the times, and in a low voice, says, _But if anyone hurts this angel…_

And he leaves it at that. He leaves it at that because Sam says, “Okay!” in a high-pitched voice, and before the room can extend into an uncomfortable silence where everybody questions if Dean’s really the stand-up guy Sam’s been telling everyone about, Sam leads the group into another round of applause.

And it’s somewhere between there, when the applause is still far from dying down, that Dean leans in and surprises Cas with a kiss, and because everybody sees it, the room bursts into cheers.

**Author's Note:**

> So there was your very cracky stereotypical and cheesy ending because somewhere in my heart, I needed Dean and Cas to kiss in front of a cheering audience :P Poor Jack is smarter than I depicted him, but hey, he's only a year old, so I'm sure there's some kind of learning curve. Anyway, I hope you'll forgive me for the sake of me making a very bad condom joke <3 (P.S. If you ever hear a diagnosis like the one in this _Dr. Sexy_ episode, that person's definitely not a doctor)
> 
> Aside from that, feedback/kudos are always appreciated, and if you'd like, you can visit me [here](http://60r3d0m.tumblr.com) on Tumblr where I'll also be writing some codas and fics this year :D For codas that appear on Tumblr, I'm making a tag list, so if you'd like to be on it, feel free to drop me a message over there!
> 
> Anyway, thank you all a bunch for reading <3


End file.
